


Your Pretty Mouth Can't Hold It In

by KateC



Series: Captain America's Stars [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateC/pseuds/KateC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy both accidentally end up at a swingers' resort.  Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist: Bellamy x Clarke on spotify by megmo42  
> Title from a Mary Oliver Poem “The Poet With His Face In His Hands”  
> So if you’re going to do it and can’t  
> stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can’t  
> hold it in, at least go by yourself across
> 
> I got out of control with the sexytimes in this one and I'm just gonna go ahead and blame girly hormones and too much wine. Yeah. I've never had an explicit fic before. Eep.  
> (No proofreader for this, I don't have one. If you WANT to volunteer, leave me a message in the comments!!! I'd be glad to have you!!)
> 
> So Bellamy is the actor who plays Captain America and Clarke is a video game company executive.

The first inkling Bellamy had that Murphy had once again fucked him over was when the lady at reception handed him a map of the resort, careful to point out all the specially marked areas.

“Specially marked for what?” he asked, staring down at the multiple pink splotches scattered over the paper.

Not that he had plans to go anywhere on his vacation. This was about rest and relaxation, about getting away from other people. No more hustle and bustle. No more screaming fans and blinding photo flashes. No more paparazzi yelling obscenities at him until he almost couldn't think for himself.

“Marked for pleasure, of course,” she said, giving him a flirtatious wink. Her brown eyes were lit with hope for a moment, and his heart sank.

Bellamy had thought he'd seen her face light up when she saw him. This place might be exclusive and hard to get to, but that didn't mean the employees had never seen a movie, for god's sakes.

He hesitated, his brain still refusing catch up to where her words were taking him.

“Here's the resort's schedule of events for the next week, in case you want to join in on the fun,” she continued, handing him more papers and packets. “And here is your preference paperwork, so we can better serve your particular needs while you're here.”

All he really wanted was peace and quiet, not to partake in any corny resort sponsored activities. He glanced down at the sheet, his brow crinkling, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Why do you need to know my sexual preference?” he asked.

She outright giggled and shook her head.

“That should be fairly obvious,” she said, leaning forward, her dark hair skimming his arm. He looked down at her name tag: _Claire._

“Can I have my phone back for a minute? I really need to call someone,” Bellamy explained, inwardly cursing Murphy.

He'd had to give up all his electronics the minute he arrived. They had even searched his luggage. It had been a relief at the time, but now all he wanted was to call up his so-called friend and chew him out over his current uncomfortable situation.

“Is it an emergency, Mr. Murphy?” she asked.

That was another weird thing. Murphy had told him he'd made the reservation under his own name, because you had to be a longstanding member to vacation here. So Bellamy was “John Murphy” for the duration, even though any staff that had seen one of the several Captain America movies would have known otherwise the second they saw him.

“Well...”

“Because anyone can use our phones here in the office in case of an emergency,” she said. “But you can't have your phone back until you leave. Our guests' privacy is of the utmost importance. As you might imagine.”

She gave him a knowing look, which he did not appreciate. He decided to simply accept whatever this was and go hide out in his bungalow.

“Is there anything else?” he wondered, hoping for the peace and quiet of the secluded patio adjacent the ocean that he was promised in the brochure.

“Let me get someone to help you with your bags and show you to your bungalow, sir,” she said, taken aback by his sudden impatience.

“Thanks,” Bellamy said, flashing her the smile that made millions of feminine (and let's face it, a few masculine as well) knees wobble.

She was cheerful again as she called someone to come to the front desk, and then he was following them outside and down a secluded path away from the main hotel. There were only a few bungalows and the cost was prohibitive for a normal person, but a multi-millionaire had no problem with the cost of privacy.

He let the guy put his suitcase in the room and tipped him and then shut the door behind him, sighing. Bellamy opened up his suitcase and pulled out some fresh clothes, just a t-shirt and board shorts, his uniform of choice during his stay. After he'd washed the smell of travel off of himself, he sifted through the small mountain of non-fiction he'd brought with him for the Karen Abott book he'd read about on Goodreads. Walking barefoot out to the small, walled garden, he planned to enjoy the rest of the afternoon buried in a book.

It was some time later that he pulled himself away from the fascinating world of the Civil War, wondering if he should figure out what he wanted to do for dinner.

_Definitely order in_ , he thought, stretching. Bellamy pulled a beer from the mini-bar, popped the cap, and stepped through the gate of his garden. He walked out to the long stretch of boardwalk that overlooked the crystal clear ocean surrounding them. As he sipped, he took in the changing colors of the sky, realizing that he must have been reading for several hours.

_God, vacation is the best_ , he told himself, looking forward to the two weeks of complete seclusion he'd arranged for himself. Until he heard the raised voices coming from down the boardwalk.

His eyes drifted over, catching sight of two women, arguing, both looking the picture of unhappiness.

“I can't believe you did this,” said the blonde.

~~~~~

Clarke let her words hang in the air and charged forward, wanting to get away from the woman behind her as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Lexa could never stand to let a chance for an argument get away from her.

For the thousandth time, Clarke wondered if arguing was a turn-on for her girlfriend. Hell, half of their sex was angry sex. Yeah, it was hot, but God it was so exhausting.

When she felt Lexa's hand on her arm, she tried to shrug it off, but the woman's hand tightened and Clarke was forced to confront her.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, babe. I thought you'd be happy,” Lexa said. Her eyes were big gray pools of hurt.

“I was happy when I thought this was a romantic getaway for the two of us,” Clarke snapped, yanking her arm free. “Instead, we get here and I find out that it's a swingers' resort. And now I know this trip was about you hooking up with other women, not finding a better connection with your girlfriend.”

Angry tears filled Clarke's eyes. How could she have let herself be fooled again?

First there was the makeup girl on the set of the documentary Lexa had directed. But Lexa had denied it vehemently.

Then there was the blue lace thong she'd found on their back patio. It was definitely not Clarke's and Lexa had always been a size 2. But again, Lexa had said something about that time their friends had stayed over after Clarke's 30th birthday. So Clarke had let it go. But this... this was too much.

“I thought we promised to always be there for each other?” Lexa said, her own eyes swimming with tears. “I love you, you know that. But I also need this. Can't we try it and see if it works for us?”

“You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me. That's the sort of thing you discuss ahead of time, not spring on me when we're already here and it's too late to object,” Clarke said. “I can't talk to you anymore.”

She walked away from the other woman—who stayed quietly in place behind her this time—skidding to a halt when she came upon Bellamy Fucking Blake standing like a vision in front of her.

_Don't be an idiot, Clarke. Just don't be an idiot._

He looked her up and down and held out the beer he was holding.

“You seem like you need this more than I do,” he said, his deep voice rumbling. It was a voice she'd heard a million times. It was impossible, and yet there he was, still holding out his beer.

She took it. After a deep drink, she sighed, leaning on the railing as she glanced over at him.

“This place is for swingers, huh? I knew something was wonky when they asked what my sexual preferences and kinks were.”

Clarke couldn't help the snort of laughter that rose in her throat.

“You mean to tell me, you somehow booked this place without realizing what it was?”

“What? I didn't book this place. My friend Murphy did. He didn't tell me what it _was_. He just said I would find it really relaxing.”

Bellamy's brow wrinkled.

“Believe it or not, I don't find the idea of multiple sex partners relaxing,” he said with a shudder.

She laughed again. Then frowned when she thought about facing Lexa. What was she going to do?

He echoed her thoughts, speaking after a few moments of contemplative silence.

“So, you gonna go make up with your girlfriend?”

Clarke hunched her shoulders.

“Nope. I really want her to leave at this point.”

“Well good luck,” he said, looking down the boardwalk at the empty space left behind by the small brunette.

“I want to enjoy my first vacation in years, two whole weeks of it. I don't want drama, I don't want conflict. Unfortunately, I don't think Lexa feels the same way. She's surprisingly tenacious when it comes to our relationship. We've been on the rocks for at least a year now, but she refuses to give up on us,” Clarke told him.

He nodded and took back the beer she held out to him. She'd taken several swigs, but there was plenty left in the bottle. He took a sip and leaned against the railing.

“You sure you want to break up, then?” he asked. “Maybe it's worth salvaging.”

“Right now I just want to piss her off as much as she has me...”

Clarke's voice trailed off as she looked at Bellamy. Hot, tall, and extremely male. She took back his beer and gulped a long swallow.

“Do you think I'm hot?” she asked, looking at him hopefully.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke decides revenge is the best medicine for what ails.

Bellamy looked down at the hot blonde, wondering if she was joking. He took in the short-shorts she was wearing, the halter-top that was practically just a wisp of fabric, her breasts on display.

His eyes went to hers, a bit guiltily.

“Sorry, is that a trick question?”

She laughed and looked back at her bungalow.

“You know what? Fuck her. I am fucking HOT. I know I am. I could have anyone here that I want.”

Bellamy stared down at her in confusion, wondering where exactly this rant was going.

She finished off his beer and handed him the empty. He stared down at it longingly, then glanced up at her as she squared her shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, curious now.

“I'm gonna go to that party, and I'm gonna find a super hot guy, and I'm gonna fuck his brains out. That'll show her.”

He felt the frown forming, his eyebrows pinching over his dark brown eyes.

“Uh, a guy?”

She had been looking away from him, her face fierce with concentration, her fists clenched at her hips, but now she turned back to him, bright smile making him gasp with the impact.

He gulped. Bellamy Blake generally had a lot of access to good looking women, but it had been quite a while since he'd indulged—privacy being the main issue.

“I'm bi, but my girlfriend is gay,” she said. “And she absolutely _hates_ the fact that I'm bi. Considers it distasteful. If I go to the party tonight, and hook up with a hot guy, it will piss her off more than anything else I could do.”

Her smile turned vicious, like she was a predator on the hunt. Which he kind of guessed she was.

“Well, I'd better be going,” she said. “Thanks for the beer. I guess I owe you one, since I kind of drank all yours.”

“I don't even know your name,” he complained to her back.

“You can call me Sharon,” she said, turning back with a wink, and left him standing there with an empty beer bottle.

~~~~~

He couldn't concentrate on his book any more. Out of curiosity, he'd glanced at the week's agenda and seen that the pool party or “Pool Pleasure Party” as it was called, started at 7pm.

“ _Wear your sexiest swim wear and come mingle with the resort's like-minded residents. Just remember the REAL party is back at the room or in the carefully designated pleasure centers._ ”

Now it was after seven and all he could picture was “Sharon” as she called herself, dressed in a bikini, and flirting with some guy at the pool for the sake of revenge. Something terrible was bound to happen. Especially if she kept drinking.

Honestly, she was too emotionally volatile to be out and about in that mess of horny people who probably just wanted to spend the night rubbing up against each other. Sharon would wake up in the morning, full of regret and heartbreak over her girlfriend, and there would be no one there to pick up the pieces.

Bellamy didn't know her all that well, but he couldn't let her put herself through that. He really needed to go to that party and protect her from herself.

And so, with some reluctance, he found himself standing poolside, with another beer in his hand (because let's be honest, he couldn't go through this without one). The pool area was crowded with what looked like hundreds of people, but word of his appearance moved quickly through the ranks, making him feel awkward and uncomfortable.

The stares and whispers, the flirtatious winks, made him wish with all his heart that he had Murphy in front of him so he could strangle him. Bellamy moved slowly through the crowds looking for Sharon, but he still didn't see her anywhere. Maybe she'd stayed back at her bungalow. Maybe she had straightened things out with her girlfriend.

“Well, hello there,” said a voice at his elbow. He turned, hopeful, and felt his stomach sink as a woman wearing a blue wristband grabbed his arm, squeezing the muscle lightly. There was a portly, under-dressed man standing next to her wearing a pink wristband, whatever that meant. Bellamy supposed he should be wearing on of the wristbands from the bag they'd given him with his information packet, but he had no desire to be labeled as anything specific.

Judging from the man's hungry gaze as it moved over Bellamy's body, pink must have meant into guys.

“Look at him, Richard,” she said, turning to the man, while she stroked Bellamy's arm. “He's even more good looking in person, wouldn't you say?” she said.

“I would say,” said Richard, with a lick of his lips.

Bellamy pulled back instinctively and she frowned, looking at his empty wrists.

“Are you gay or straight or what?” she asked, up front. “Because I wouldn't mind watching, if you want to spend some time with my husband. They don't really have a wristband for that.”

“I, uh, gosh, that sounds like a pleasant time....” he said, voice trailing off, trying to find a way to get away from them without being rude.

“Doesn't it, though?” said Richard, coming close enough to squeeze his ass. Bellamy jumped and the other man laughed.

“Listen, I don't think you're supposed to touch people unless they want to be touched,” objected Bellamy.

The man looked abashed. “I'm sorry. Usually when you don't wear a wristband, it means you're up for anything.”

“A-anything? Uh, excuse me, I'm feeling kind of tired,” Bellamy gasped, feeling his stomach clench. He turned quickly and practically ran away, hoping to find solace and solitude back in his bungalow before anyone else could accost him.

Unfortunately, he ran right into the lady he was supposed to be protecting.

“You okay, Cap?” she asked, mischievous glint in her eye.

“Uh...” Bellamy was unable to form any sort of complete sentence at this point, and Sharon's barely there white bikini with mesh over-skirt wasn't helping in the least. “I'm not very good at this.”

“Now that, I find hard to believe,” she said, winking. She slid a hand down his arm, grabbing his empty wrist. “I take it you didn't read the info packet before you came down here?”

He shook his head, feeling sheepish. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced at her through his lashes.

“They all mean something, each color,” she explained, twisting a blond curl around her finger, blue eyes meeting his.

“I gathered that,” he told her dryly.

“Blue is hetero. Purple is gay. Pink is Bi,” Sharon said, holding up her pink clad wrist.

“At least it's not complicated once you know,” Bellamy commented.

“Oh, it is. There's a whole rainbow of colors represented here. There's black for BDSM—not a lot of those that I've seen. There's light green for spanking. Yellow for the golden showers crowd. Brown for—”

He held up a hand. “Please don't finish that sentence.”

“Furries.”

“Furries like the people that dress up in the furry costumes?”

“Well, that's a little of it. You really should have read the packet.”

“I didn't really come here to meet anyone. I came here to make sure that you achieved your goal without running into any creeps,” Bellamy told her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts.

“This place is pretty creep free. They are not keen on anyone feeling abused or uncomfortable. Hence the wristbands. And anyway, I decided not to go through with it. I'm not the kind of girl that engages in revenge sex, I guess,” she said, shaking her head at him. Then she stepped closer, leaning up on her flip-flop clad toes to whisper in his ear.

“You're not looking so great, Cap. Are you sure you want to be out here among your adoring fans?”

Her sweet, minty breath whispered across the side of his face and he felt the uncomfortable start of an erection. Swallowing, he looked down at her, eyes catching on her cleavage, then flashing away from her with effort. _Not helping, not helping._

She pulled away slightly, and his eyes swept over the party, trying to hold himself together.

Suddenly, he recognized a face in the crowd, a pretty brunette with angry eyebrows and dark make-up. She was walking toward them, holding the hand of a curvy, dark skinned woman who was as petite as she was voluptuous. Lexa looked happy, and excited, but her expression changed when she saw what Sharon was doing. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze took in Bellamy, standing in his clingy t-shirt, leaning toward the smiling Sharon.

“Your girlfriend is on her way over here, with a hot girl in tow,” Bellamy told her, lips against her ear so he could murmur in a low voice.

She stiffened and looked about to turn, but he put a hand on her arm.

“No, don't turn around,” he said.

“It's probably the fresh meat she has planned out for herself tonight. There is no way I'm going to be a part of this farce,” she said, frown marring her previously playful expression.

He glanced back at the brunette, who was now doing what could easily be called marching toward them, determination visible.

“I don't think she plans on giving you a choice,” he muttered. “Listen, Shay...”

“Shay?”

“Sharon isn't really a great fit for you, I don't care if she _was_ Captain America's girlfriend. Listen, I'm gonna try something, okay?”

She looked up at him, blue eyes trusting. He smiled down at her, careful to keep his expression friendly.

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just you wait till that next chapter...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ummmm... not really sure how to describe this chapter?

It had been close to five years since Clarke had kissed a man, and she had forgotten all the subtle differences: the hint of scraping stubble, the firm lips, and the strength. Then there was the height, which she recalled when she tilted up as his lips met hers.

One of his large hands pressed against her back, bringing her closer, the other slid under her hair to cradle her head. His kiss was perfectly chaste, and involved no tongue, but it was apparently enough for Lexa, whose gasp of outrage could be heard behind her.

“Is that her?” she heard a female voice ask. It must have been the woman Bellamy had mentioned.

A hand grabbed her arm, and Clarke was facing her girlfriend, who looked ready to punch someone—her, Bellamy, it was hard to tell—in the face.

“I thought we agreed to do this together?” Lexa asked. “You were supposed to be looking for a girl we could both enjoy.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“I didn't agree to anything, and the longer I think about it, the more I know I can't do this with you. Not now, not ever. If this is what you need, then I guess we're at an impasse,” Clarke, gently removing Lexa's hand from her arm.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Lexa was still holding the other woman's hand, and the poor thing seemed really uncomfortable. Clarke looked over at her, smiled sadly and squared her shoulders. She looked at her girlfriend again.

“I think it means we are finally over. I'm sorry. We can talk more about it after the vacation, I guess? Don't worry, I'll send someone to get my things.”

“And where exactly will you be staying?” Lexa said, glaring at Bellamy.

“At the hotel, I guess.”

Lexa frowned, face earnest.

“Honey, let's not do this. Can't we work this out? Maybe we can make some sort of compromise.”

Clarke merely shook her head and took a step back.

There was no reply from Lexa, only a growling sound, a huff of breath, and the stomping of sandal clad feet as she left.

Bellamy had pulled back, but when she was gone, he looped an arm around her shoulders, friendly like. The scent of his skin lingered in her nostrils and Clarke found herself swaying toward him. But he didn't notice because his eyes were looking behind her.

“It looks like she's headed back to the bungalow. What are you going to do now?”

Clarke knew exactly what she was going to do, and had ever since she felt his lips on hers. She licked her bottom lip, as if she could taste him on them and his gaze strayed downward. She'd seen the way he looked at her earlier. She'd felt his breath catch when she'd whispered in his ear. All that was left was convincing him to leave behind the inhibitions he seemed to have in spades.

Bellamy cleared his throat.

“I don't want to abandon you, but I can't go through another hour of being ogled and propositioned. Call me old fashioned, but I usually go for a meal of some sort before something like that happens.”

She felt a thrill pulse through her.

“You really are just an old man, aren't you?” she asked in amazement.

Frowning, he brushed a hand through his curls, looking for all the world like a cranky grandpa.

“I'm sure this sort of thing is healthy for those who find it titillating, but I really don't. Mostly I'm looking for someone to cuddle up with at night. I don't care if that sounds corny,” Bellamy said, and let his hand fall back to his side.

Clarke clutched his upper arm then, and went up on her toes to press her lips to his again. She felt his initial hesitation, the holding back—he really was a darling—but then she nibbled at his bottom lip and he groaned and leaned down to kiss her back. Still, she was glad to see that he wasn't the type to start stabbing at her with his tongue. Lexa always treated Clarke's mouth like a battle she had to win, and Clarke was imminently tired of fighting during sex.

No, Bellamy Blake took his time, and she savored the push and pull of his lips against hers. He gave a tiny lap of his tongue against her upper lip and she surged into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth for him.

Still he held back, though his hands were now on Clarke's hips, holding her steady and close.

After a few long, delicious moments, he pulled back, looking down at her with dubious brown eyes.

“What exactly was that about?” the suspicion was clear in his voice, and Clarke knew that any number of things like revenge on Lexa could be going through his mind.

“Nothing more than the fact that I haven't kissed a guy in about five years and my goodness you are really good at it,” Clarke said, grinning up at him.

He grinned back at her, relaxing a bit.

She held up her hands, giving him her best “I'm completely innocent” face.

“No pressure or anything, but I would love to keep doing that. We don't have to violate your moral code; we'll keep it light,” she suggested, feeling the flush of heat pooling in her belly. She'd felt a brush of hardness against her hip when he released her, and she'd be lying if she said it hadn't excited her.

“I like kissing you, but I don't want to do it here,” he told her.

“They've got private places all over the resort,” Clarke suggested.

He snorted. “Yeah, I remember. Specially marked.”

Bellamy glanced around and Clarke followed his example, noticing the jealous and interested glances being thrown their way. She was anything but surprised, considering his celebrity status. She realized he must be feeling a large amount of discomfort with this whole event, being that he hadn't even known what he was signing up for. Clarke herself was still kind of horrified by it, being deceived into coming here by her ex-girlfriend. It wasn't the lifestyle, it was the fact that she hadn't been given a choice.

“I can get a room in the hotel,” she said, squeezing his arm gently. His hands were still on her hips and she fought the urge to lean up into him again, to kiss those lips that she couldn't stop looking at.

He looked down at her then, serious.

“No, let's go to my bungalow for now. It requires no extra effort and we can hang out on the patio.”

She bit her lip, fighting her surge of excitement and made herself nod calmly.

Leading her by the crook of the elbow, he took her back down the path toward where their bungalows were located. The night was balmy and clear as a bell, but she couldn't suppress a shiver of anticipation, picturing herself convincing Bellamy and his stubbled face to wander their way over her happily participating body.

He let them in, and gestured for her to take a seat outside. She obliged by climbing into the roomy hammock while he rummaged in the mini-bar for some drinks.

“I have to admit this place has stellar service. They've already restocked my fridge.”

He paused when he got to her perch and she scooted over in implied invitation. There was a tricky moment as he climbed in, but once they were both settled beside one another, pressed together from shoulder to shinbone, it was... cozy.

She turned to look at him, and got a face full of dark curls, which made her giggle. He smelled so nice, like soap and man, and some mysterious element that made her pulse speed up.

They looked up at the night sky, barely visible with all the outside lights on, but she wanted to see his face more than the stars.

“So, Shay. Still no real names?” he asked, sitting up to take a sip of his beer.

“I don't think so, Cap,” she replied, smiling at him cheerfully.

“Can I ask what you do in the real world?”

She wondered for a moment how much she should tell him. Given the circles he moved in, she was certain she could avoid him after she left the resort. But that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him.

“Video games,” she said. “Like shoot 'em up, kick their asses video games. I'm actually an executive, which is how I can afford my awesome house and this insanely expensive vacation.”

“That's cool. My franchise has a couple video games. I think they're going to release one for the new film when it comes out. They want me to do my character's voice.”

“Oh really?” she asked, pulse hammering.

She put down her beer bottle and slipped her now empty hand over his chest. Leaning in, she kissed his neck right below the jawline, smiling as he stiffened. Clarke nipped her way up to his earlobe, which she took between her teeth. She sucked it for a moment, then bit it softly, enjoying the catch in his breath and the muffled groan that escaped his lips.

Bellamy dropped the beer bottle in his hand with a clank when she leaned over him, kissing him. He laced his long fingers through her hair as he kissed her back, this time not hesitating to slide his tongue into her open mouth.

Now it was her turn to moan, and she pressed her chest against his and touched his tongue with her own. One of his arms wrapped around her, hand spreading over her back, bringing her firmly against him. She wiggled her hips against his for a moment, but she remembered that she'd promised Bellamy no funny business, so she pushed back against his chest.

He released her easily and reached down for his fizzing beer, which had made a nice puddle underneath the hammock. Laughing, he picked it up, taking a long drink before he turned back to her smiling face.

“I feel like a teenager,” he said and shook his head as he settled next to her again.

Clarke reached over and grasped his free hand with her own. She squeezed it for a second and started talking about her favorite books.

They kept talking about various things, and sipping their beers. Every once in a while, one of them would stop talking and lean in and they'd exchange a soft, passionate kiss. Sometimes, Bellamy would reach a hand to cup her jaw, sometimes Clarke would clutch at his shirt, as though trying to keep him close.

When they'd finished their drinks and their quiet murmuring, Bellamy swung out of the hammock, reaching a hand back for her. He kept hold of the hand she gave him and led her over to the bed.

Clarke put her hands around him, running them over the thickly muscled back. He didn't seem to be in much of a hurry and she certainly wasn't going to rush her first experience with a man in years. He did press against her though, giving her another thrilling feel of his rock hard erection. Rubbing her hips against it, she let out a soft, “Mmmm...”

Bellamy made a dive for her neck, kissing from her ear to her collar bone. He pulled on the halter strap of her bikini, moving it out of the way of his sucking mouth. Clarke thought about reaching back to untie it, but made up her mind that if it was in his way, he'd do something about it. Her hands were busy slipping down his shorts to grab his butt, in any case.

Of course they were rock hard, just like every latex clad glimpse she'd had of them in every movie. It wasn't exactly like she was a fan—Clarke didn't have a lot of time for movies. It was one of the reasons she'd needed a vacation in the first place. But she'd seen seen enough to know that he had buns worth grabbing.

His hand slipped under one cup of her bikini top, distracting her from her consideration of his body in latex as he thumbed the nipple. Her sighs and moans spurred him on, but he kept his leisurely pace as her top was finally discarded in trade for his roaming hands.

Those hands cupped her breasts and squeezed lightly, Bellamy gazing down on them with satisfied eyes. He moved down to the coverup wrapped low on her hips, untying the knot there, then lifted his hands when she pulled off his shirt.

He didn't have a lot of chest hair, but he certainly had more than enough for her to stroke and enjoy. A single one of her fingers followed his happy trail down and she palmed him through his board shorts, enjoying the length and hardness she found there.

He shuddered and closed his eyes, hands caressing up and down her sides. Clarke felt goose bumps start to pebble and stepped forward to meet skin-to-skin. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her a little as he sat on the bed, bringing her with him to straddle his lap.

They kissed again, long and lingering, and he sifted his fingers through her hair gently. Tilting her head back, Clarke again enjoyed the scruff on his face as it scraped with torturous slowness over the delicate skin of her neck. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she rocked against him, eliciting a soft groan from Bellamy.

Dipping his head, he licked and sucked one of her nipples then pinched it lightly when he moved on to the other. He did this lingering back and forth technique on her breasts until Clarke was squirming and trembling. Then he released her and she laid back against the pillows, lifting her hips to pull off her bottoms while he did the same with his shorts.

She caught sight of him, erect and pulsing and swallowed hard.

Clearing her throat and feeling uncomfortable vulnerability, she said, “Go easy on me, okay. I haven't had anything inside me since Lexa and I got together.”

He paused and moved to her side, instead of hovering over her. Clarke could tell he was surprised, so she explained, “Lexa was a purist. She said she didn't need a dick, real or fake, to get off.”

“We can go as slow or as fast as you want,” he told her, and leaned down to suckle her breast while his hand moved down to play in her soft folds. She was slick and ready, but the finger that he slipped inside her was hesitating.

It felt amazing.

She gasped and arched her back and after a moment to gauge her response, Bellamy moved his finger with a steadily increasing rhythm, matching the movement of her hips. After long enough that she was close to the edge, there were two fingers, then finally three.

This was too much for her and she came with no warning and only a gasp of surprise. He hadn't even touched her clit yet.

He smiled at her when her eyes opened to gaze at him in astonishment after she finally came down. Bellamy kissed her slowly again and she felt such a stab of joy that it scared her. She pushed the feeling away from her by grabbing at him wildly.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don't stop there.”

He frowned. “I think maybe we should take our time. We have as long as we want.”

She looked up at him through her lashes.

“But I want you now,” she murmured and reached down to palm him in her hand.

“Kay,” Bellamy agreed, in a gruff voice and didn't argue after that.

He search quickly through his travel bag for a condom, until she opened the drawer in the nightstand and pulled out the complimentary pack of condoms and lube that the resort provided. Fumbling with the wrapper for a second, he rolled it on and she pulled him down until they were skin to skin again, and wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs.

Bellamy looked so sexy, big rippling chest pressed against hers, biting his lip as he concentrated, eyes staring down into hers disconcertingly.

She used her fingers to guide him and then tried to relax. Meanwhile he used microscopic movements, giving her all the time in the world to adjust to him. And God it felt good. She felt complete and full and right and she wanted to rush things but every muscle in his body tightened when she tried to push him in.

“I—won't hurt you,” he gritted through his teeth. He took her arms and pinned them above her head with an iron grip so she'd have less leverage against him. And he slowed down even more until she was a giant sobbing mess of want, lifting her hips, pleading in soft whispers.

When he finally increased the pace, she was so tightly wound that she came again without warning, but he surprised her by coming almost at the same time.

After they had both calmed down and he'd removed the condom and put it in the small trash bin, he turned to her and sighed.

“Unmanned. Did I mention I feel like a teenager right now?”

“If you were pathetic, I was worse,” said Clarke, laughing. “Basically, we would totally suck at that whole pleasure delay technique.

“I'm up for practicing,” Bellamy said, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

Clarke didn't reply, only curled back into him and let herself doze while he kissed her neck.

“Did I at least earn your real name yet?” he asked.

“Sorry, Cap,” she told him and drifted off to sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's got her, but can he keep her?

He awoke to the sound of the shower and the brisk knocking of someone at the door.

He pulled on his neglected board shorts and opened it to a bellhop with two bags held at his sides.

“Uh...” Bellamy was uncertain what to say.

“The young lady called the front desk and asked for her things to be retrieved from her former room of residence,” the guy told him with a grin and a wink. Bellamy took the bags and set them next to his own in the closet and wondered how he felt about “Shay” moving in for the remainder of her stay.

At that moment, she walked out of the bathroom, toweling off her hair. She was naked and wet, and when he spotted the love bites from their second interlude of the night before, he felt his cock harden.

“Was that the guy with my bags?” she asked, looking toward the door.

He nodded, walking toward her, his hands grasping at her hips to pull her close.

“Because I also ordered some lunch,” she said, and stopped talking when he licked one of the hickeys near her left breast.

“Lunch can wait, right?” he asked, trailing his lips over to next bite mark, which he also licked.

“You'll have to do something about the guy when he knocks at the door,” she said, dropping the towel.

“We'll make this fast,” he said.

“That doesn't seem to be a problem for us.”

“Hey!” Bellamy objected. “You're going to pay for that.”

He pushed her down on the bed and licked her until she screamed and pulled his hair as she came under his mouth.

Rising off his knees, Bellamy grinned.

“I'm gonna take a shower. Tell me when the food gets here, will you? I'm starving.”

It would be an exaggeration to say they spent the rest of the day in bed. They spent an equal amount of time in the hammock: Bellamy reading his Civil War book, and Shay reading a biography of Queen Isabelle that she'd taken from his pile.

They ordered snacks and went through their beer stash pretty fast. Every once in a while one of them would look over and the other one would be staring back. Then the kissing would start and then the touching, and finally, it was back to the bed. Bellamy was pretty sure no one had sex this much except people in pornos.

Not that he minded, but for the occasional fear that he might break his penis.

“What are your plans? Have you thought about it?” he asked her at the end of the day. They had finished dinner and were walking along the beach. He noticed her scanning the shoreline hurriedly for signs of her girlfriend, and he privately wondered what in the hell they were doing.

She intertwined her fingers with his, and his concerns quieted for the moment.

“I'll probably stay out the week—with you if you'll have me—and then head home. It's earlier than I intended, but I'd like to get home before Lexa does.”

He nodded, unsurprised.

“Are you sure she won't decide the same thing?”

Clarke snorted and looked out across the water.

“Lexa won't deny herself a single moment of this vacation. After all, I was the one who paid for the damn thing. No, she'll show up at exactly the time it's over, and she'll expect me to be waiting with open arms.”

“But you won't be.”

She shrugged and looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I suppose I've been so pussy-whipped until now that she'd hardly think anything else, right? I mean, do you know what she does for a living while I'm slaving away? She makes documentaries. I paid for her equipment and her meals and her car, and pretty much everything in her life, because she's out chasing injustice so hard she doesn't have time for a job.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me,” he said, pulling her closer so he could put an arm around her shoulders.

“Says the hardest working man in Hollywood. You can't fool me by a long shot.”

Bellamy slipped his other arm around her and yanked her so that they were chest to chest. Nuzzling her hair, he sighed, enjoying the easy intimacy he seemed to feel around her.

“Let's go back to the bungalow, okay?”

~~~~~

Every hour he spent with her, he found himself wanting her to leave less and less.

“You'll give me your number before you go, won't you?” he asked on their fourth night together.

She was sitting on top of him, naked, rubbing her hips against his, his hands on her breasts.

“Now is the time you want to ask this?” she asked, looking at him reproachfully.

“If not now, then when?”

“Listen, Cap. You're a sweet guy. But this is a little vacation fling.”

“It doesn't have to be,” he protested. “We could date.”

She slid him inside of her and everything but the tight closeness, the heat of her, left his brain.

Even afterward, when he asked her again, she just smiled at him and cuddled up close, refusing to answer.

The next afternoon Shay was up at the front desk arranging to move her flight for a few days earlier than her original ticket. He was up on the boardwalk again, admiring the view and thinking about his own return home.

“She may be fucking you for the length of this vacation because she misses dick or because she's into movie stars, but don't tell yourself it's anything else. She's ruthless. She'll eat your heart.”

He turned around, wary of drama, to face the brunette. Lexa? Was that what Shay had called her?

“I'm not particularly concerned about it,” he said, elbows on the railing behind him.

The woman scoffed at him.

“I've seen that look before. Let me make it clear. She's using you.”

He lowered his sunglasses and peered at her over the top of them.

“Let _me_ make it clear: I don't care.”

Popping the shades back up, he started to walk away.

“Tell her I'm going to fuck a new girl every night until she comes to her senses!” she called after him.

“That should keep you busy!” he called back.

When Shay opened the door several minutes later, Bellamy kissed her to forget the week was swiftly coming to an end. He picked her up and set her on the bed, letting his lips silence her questions until she was clinging to him like he was clinging to her.

He flung off her clothes and thrust into her and she moaned loudly, obviously enjoying this different side of him, but he couldn't get much satisfaction out of it. He bit her neck and she spurred him on with dirty words, making him forget what had been bothering him. Instead, he soaked in her scent and enjoyed her body wrapped around his.

In the end, he wasn't very surprised when he woke up the next morning and found her gone.

_Cap-_

_Thanks for a perfect week. You really did earn my real name, but I'm cagey as shit, sorry._

_-Shay_

_~~~~~_

He went home a few days later, after finishing up his Civil War book, finally. It had been a great, relaxing vacation, but he couldn't help wishing he'd gotten at least one picture of her. Life wasn't the same with a girl's face eating away at you.

Two weeks later, he had all the guys over. When Murphy showed up at the door carrying a 12 pack, asking with that smirk of his if Bellamy had enjoyed his vacation, Bellamy punched him.

“God, man!” Miller yelled. “You could have at least waited until he put the beer down. Rule number one, always save the beer.”

“So I take it that's a no?” said Murphy, walking in after him.

“What is so goddamned funny?” asked Bellamy. “You set me up, you bastard.”

Miller looked from one to the other. “Is there a joke here I'm not getting?”

Murphy was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“He sent me to a swinger's resort. Full of people who literally wanted a piece of me. All I wanted was five seconds to myself before the press tour starts.”

Shaking his head, Miller grabbed one of Murphy's beers and finished setting up the marinade for the pork he was going to cook on the BBQ.

“You should have known the guy who plays Loki would be a trickster. Besides, I'm betting you figured out a way to isolate yourself from society the entire time you were there.”

Bellamy smirked.

“You're right about _that_ ,” Bellamy said.

“You didn't fuck anyone? God, what a waste. You are such a damn monk!” Murphy complained.

Bellamy took his time setting up the Risk board. The three of them tried to make time to play once a month and it was always amusing for Bellamy, the hardcore strategist. Murphy spent all his time trying to fuck with the minds of the other players and Miller was mostly silent until he suddenly took over your whole damn territory.

It was some time later, as they were just finishing up their dinner break—Risk was an hours long endeavor between them—that Miller brought the topic back around to Bellamy's vacation.

“What Bellamy needs isn't a fuck. Well, he needs one, but not anything casual. He's not built that way. What he needs to do is meet a nice girl.”

Bellamy looked at him speculatively, but he said nothing as he took his seat at the game board.

“You know better than I do that this industry isn't really full of girls that want a guy for the complete nerd that he is,” said Murphy, gesturing to Bellamy's wall-length bookcase filled with every Greek history or retelling imaginable.

“Which is why we need to go outside the industry. Duh.”

Leaning back in his seat, Bellamy cocked his head.

“You sound like a man with a plan,” he commented before making his move.

“You know that guy I met a while back?”

“The programmer?”

Miller nodded. “Monty, yeah.”

“You guys still dating?”

“Ugh, please tell me we're not going to start talking about eachother's love lives. Next thing you know we'll be doing makeovers and braiding eachother's hair,” Murphy said with a sneer. “I'm gonna go use the can and hopefully you two girls will be done with your pillow talk before I get back.”

“We're still dating,” Miller confirmed, a grin spreading across his bearded face.

“That's awesome, man,” said Bellamy, reaching over to give his shoulder a friendly clasp.

“It's still a secret for now though, so keep it on the lowdown, if you don't mind. Anyway, Monty's boss is like a total hardcore fan of Captain America. Like she has a giant poster hanging on the wall in her office. But it's not just that. She's great, and Monty said she got kind of messed up by her last relationship, so she's looking for someone quiet and stable.”

Bellamy shrugged.

“I dunno, man. I'm not really interested in meeting anyone right now.”

He still felt blown away by Shay, whoever she was. He'd tried searching for female executives in the video game industry, but they were surprisingly scarce, and camera shy, apparently.

“Well, my idea was, why don't you come to the event for the new Captain America game release next month? I know you got an invite. You can meet her and if you don't click, then you can just be the movie star she takes a picture with to post on her Instagram. If you do click, then you can ask her out.”

“What's her name?”

“Uh...” Miller rubbed his head, looking embarrassed. “I can't remember. Gretta or something? Griff? Monty is like a mile a minute sometimes and I can't always keep up.”

Bellamy pursed his lips, honestly trying to picture himself dating someone. Instead all he saw was _her_ face, tilted toward him with a teasing smile.

“I'll consider it, but no promises.”

Murphy walked back in the room at that moment.

“Oh good, we done now?” he asked. “Let's play then. Daddy needs a new pair of Bellamy's blue balls.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and they got back to their game.

  
  


 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course you know they had to meet again. :)

“Holy crap, Clarke! Monty wasn't kidding. That thing is huge,” said Raven, craning her neck up to look at it.

Clarke felt herself flush, but she lifted her chin.

“It's a fabulous poster and I'm glad I bought it.”

“That thing belongs in a movie theater lobby,” Raven commented, one hand on her hip, the other pointed at the wall which was covered with a large poster of Bellamy Blake as a steamy Captain America.

Point of fact, it had been. She wasn't about to admit it, however.

It had been three weeks since she got home from her vacation. In that time, she'd changed all the locks on her house, packed everything of Lexa's into boxes, and put them outside her security gate for pick up on Lexa's return.

It hadn't been a pleasant confrontation, but at least she'd only had to talk to her ex on the phone. Last thing she'd heard was that Lexa had moved in with some actress.

“You may not work for me, but I swear to God I will fire Jasper and Monty if you continue to give me shit about this.”

Raven laughed and sat in the chair that faced Clarke's desk while her friend walked around to her own seat.

“If it makes you feel any better, both he and Jasper approve wholeheartedly. In fact, I think Jasper said you would be the coolest boss ever if you hooked up with Bellamy Blake. Like he'd make you a trophy or something.”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke huffed in irritation.

“He's such a giant child. Giving trophies for sexy is icky and juvenile.”

“That may be true, but you'd be the envy of women everywhere. I'd hit that.”

“Oh my god, new topic please!”

“I promise to drop it if you let me be your plus one for the release shindig.”

“I'm not going.”

Raven sat up, feet hitting the floor with a smack.

“Are you kidding me right now? You have to go. I heard that the guys who play Loki and Bucky will be there.”

“How do you know that?”

Grinning slyly, Raven leaned forward.

“Monty hacked into the network to see who RSVP'd.”

Clarke took a slow breath and fiddled with the pen sitting on her desktop.

“But no Captain America?” she asked casually.

“Nope. Were you hoping?” Raven wondered, eyes dancing beneath her raised eyebrows.

“Definitely not. I wouldn't go if he was going.”

“Oh, so you will go then?”

She bit her lip.

“If Bellamy Blake isn't going, I'll go.”

“Awesome! I'm going as your date, then. You better wear something kick ass, because I am not going on a date with a slouch.”

Clarke pointed her pen at the door.

“Get out of my office. I have work to do.”

~~~~~

The club they'd rented out for the evening was packed, lit with a lot of bright colors and filled to the brim with all sorts of industry types: gamers, press, even other movie stars. Bellamy was bored already.

Still, he'd decided it would be good to come, to maybe get her out of his head. If he could meet a nice woman, someone to take up his time and energy, he might be able to get over this mystery girl.

So, the night of, he texted Miller and asked for a ride. He knew that Miller and his boyfriend were taking a limo over so they could drink.

_Sure, we can do that. We'll pick you aweslkdgnaksdng._

_???_

_Sorry, Monty's roommate grabbed my phone and started screeching at me. This dude is cray._

_Maybe I should bring my own ride then._

_Oh hell no. We know you will skip out early. Who knows when she will be there? Pick you up at 7._

_Kk._

He wove his way through the displays, and the gaming stations, stopping to sign autographs. Bellamy almost wished he'd worn his costume. He had one of his own that he used when he went to visit kids in hospitals with the other actors.

The guys were right in front of him, leading him toward this apparent paragon of all things female, but they were halfway through the room when he stopped dead.

She was standing across the room in front of him, looking for all the world like the careless and happy girl he'd met several weeks before. He wanted to strangle her.

He stomped across the room, pushing through the crowds of rowdy gamers around him. Ignoring the pleas of his fans and the confused looks of his friends, Bellamy plowed toward her like a bulldozer through the ground.  
~~~~~

He was almost upon her when Clarke saw him.

“Oh shit!” she said, backing up a little and looking for an exit.

Raven grabbed her hand and tugged her forward.

“Sorry, Clarke. This is a setup. It was Monty's idea, but I fully support it. There's no way we could miss an opportunity to introduce you two.”

“Fuck, Raven, I already know him! I need to get out of here,” Clarke exclaimed, yanking her hand back.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, remember that swingers' resort Lexa took me to?”

“You mean, before you dumped her ass, changed all your locks and left her crap in boxes outside your gate?”

“Yeah, right before that.”

“This guy? This guy was the one you fucked that week?”

Clarke didn't have a chance to answer, because Bellamy was right there, invading her space. He grabbed her hand and led her away, past an astonished Raven and an open-mouthed Monty.

He found one of the club's employees and demanded a private space and they led him to a reserved VIP room. She supposed it was for people exactly like himself: movie stars and millionaires.

When the door was shut behind them, he crossed his arms and leaned against it, gazing at her through narrow eyes.

“So... what exactly was the problem? Were you really just using me for dick? Because it didn't feel like it.”

She sighed and went over to sit on one of the couches. Kicking off her killer heels, she leaned back and patted the couch next to her.

“Mostly it was that I couldn't figure out how to make it work with a gigantic movie star and my head was super messed up by Lexa.”

He sat next to her.

“You left me a shitty note and not even a name.”

She nodded in acknowledgement.

“And yet somehow here you are because apparently the universe wanted us to meet again.”

Bellamy smiled at that.

“Well, you kind of gave it a hint with that giant poster of me,” he teased.

She felt her face heat and his grin got even wider. Stretching out a hand, he stroked her cheek and she tried to keep her traitorous heart from pounding out of her chest.

“How in the world do you know about that poster?”

“Miller's boyfriend Monty told him and he told me. Said you ordered it right after you got back.”

He looked so smug that she couldn't take it anymore so she leaned forward and kissed him in self-defense. She definitely wiped the grin off his face, but she got more back than she bargained for when he practically climbed on top of her.

His hands clutched at her hips, his tongue thrust in her mouth. Fingers tangling in her hair, he rubbed against her, groaning when she rubbed right back. Clarke slipped her hands inside his shirt, raking his back lightly with her nails and laughed into his mouth when he shuddered.

“God, I missed this so much,” he murmured as he moved his mouth down to where her chest heaved against the tight material of her dress. Bellamy nuzzled against the cleavage for a moment that made her clutch at him and whimper, then he pulled down the neckline until one of her breasts popped out.

“Bellamy!” she said, when he took the nipple in his mouth, suckling. Her hands were down on his ass now, pulling him to her so she could grind on him.

She did not fail to notice, when he pulled down her top again to switch to the other breast, that his hand had slid up her thigh and was occupied with fingering the wetness he found between her legs. When one of his fingers slipped inside her, she almost came, but she willed herself to wait for the real thing.

“Please for the love of all that's holy, tell me you have a condom,” she gasped, when he tugged at her panties.

“I may not have been a boy scout, but I always come prepared,” he said with a wink and reached back for his wallet.

“Haha,” she said, and put her hand down his pants.

The next thing Clarke knew, her legs were up in the air and he was fucking her like there was a race he was running and he was going to finish it if it killed him.

When they'd both come and she'd gotten her clothing back into some semblance of covering her, he gave her a sweaty kiss and tugged her up to her feet.

She climbed back into her killer heels and they exited the room, moving slowly through the crowd. Raven's eyes widened when she took in the sight of Clarke.

“Did you just fuck him?” she hissed, leaning forward to whisper the words in Clarke's ear.

“Of course not,” Clarke hissed back.

“Your hair looks like it's been through a wind tunnel and you have a huge hickey on your neck,” said Raven, pointing to the evidence.

At that moment Miller and Murphy came over. Bellamy wrapped an arm around her waist and grinned at them.

“This is—” He broke off, groaning. “I still don't know your name!”

Raven snorted and looked back and forth between the two of them.

“It's Clarke,” Clarke told him.

“Right. Guys, this is Clarke. We're dating.”

Miller was shaking his head, still confused. Murphy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Great. Can we get back to gaming now?” he asked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I do sincerely apologize to the Lexa fans (they include myself). I don't think Lexa is a cheater or a philanderer. In fact, I actually think her character is one that is dead set on fidelity once she falls in love. But for the the sake of the plot, I had to twist her character a bit. Ah well.


End file.
